The Death of Percy
by Rea
Summary: For the first time in his life, Percy messes up a potion.


The Fifth Year Trilogy: Part Three: 

html

body

h1Interlude: The Death of Percy/h1

p Disclaimer: Contrary to popular belief (amongst my friends, at least) I don't hate Percy Weasly. He just happened to be the most convenient character to use when I decided to write this story. Also, I do not own Percy or his fate; that belongs to JK Rowling.

pAuthor's Note: Percy has always been there for us when we need someone to remind us what the rules are or how people with OCD really act. However, in every life, there comes a time when change approaches us and invites us to come with it and become something new, something different. When we refuse this invitation to change, it is inevitable that conflict will occur and this conflict is not always pretty. As we all know, Percy is very set in his ways and his ways are set in the rules, which were (in turn) set by Mr. Crouch. It is only now, with the rise of Voldemort and the growing rift between Dumbledore and the Ministry of Magic, that change confronts Percy. Which road will he choose? Or will he even be given the opportunity to choose a road? Of course not. But giving him the chance to die a respectful death is the least I could do for him.

****

pPercy stood in his bedroom bent over his cauldron working on a Wakefullness potion. He'd need it tonight if he was going to finish his report on American disregard for the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Act. He sighed. So far, life at the Ministry had remained normal. He had not been promoted to Minister of International Magical Cooperation (as he'd hoped) but remained a mere lackey under Mr. Lancroft, the new Minister. Percy felt he deserved better. Still, life wasn't bad.

pOf course, his entire family thought that Percy would take on the role of inside source in the Ministry. He was constantly pestered to give them information for Dumbledore on the Ministry's actions and its stance of You Know Who. 'Like that would ever happen,' thought Percy.

pHe dumped some black beetle eyes into his cauldron. It turned a murky brown color and began to fizz. He sniffed the air. The potion was supposed to smell like a double latte cappuccino but so far it smelled more like burnt peanuts. He glanced into the cauldron and added the roasted dragon scales. The murky brown color was no more. Instead, an acid green color filled the cauldron.

p"Oh, no," Percy muttered. He glanced at the potion book again. The potion was supposed to be a dark brown color, not acid green. Something definitely wasn't right. He read through the instructions again. "Oohh, nooo." The beetle eyes were supposed to be added after the roasted dragon scales, not before.

pFor the first time in his life, Percy had gotten a potion wrong. 

pThe burnt smell grew greater and Percy suddenly noticed the potion was leaking out through the bottom of his French-made cauldron.

pPercy did the only thing he could think to do: he froze in place and watched his life flash before his eyes, stupidly leaving his hand right next to the leaking cauldron.

pAs for his life flashing before his eyes…let's see…there was the time he was sorted into Gryffindor…when he became a prefect, both times actually. And like he could forget taking his O.W.L's! That was the experience of a lifetime…or at least his time. Then, being Head Boy…and Penelope, his one and only girlfriend. Of course, they had broken up right after Hogwarts…something about Percy always talking about his Ministry of Magic work. Well, that was pretty much it.

pPercy frowned. Somehow, for being such an ambitious person, he had gotten lost somewhere along the way.

pSuddenly, Percy felt a burning sensation in his left hand and he finally moved it away from the cauldron. Alas! It was too late; the potion gone wrong had already eaten through part of his hand.

p"Damn them!" Percy thought angrily. They had mocked him when he wrote his cauldron report on the shoddy quality and thin bottoms of foreign cauldrons. "But now," he thought, "would they still be laughing? Stupid French." Anger seized him, "They can't do anything right." His cauldron, his beautiful cauldron he bought because it was so prestigious. And still, its bottom was too thin to stop a messed up potion from leaking through. 

pThe fumes! Percy looked around his room. It was filled with green smoke, certainly not breathable. And poor Percy had shut his window, cursing the animals outside for being too noisy. It was so hard to concentrate on work with those animals chattering around. Now he was paying for it by suffocation on the poisonous fumes due to lack of ventilation. Percy collapsed and choked on the fumes; he was starting to fell just a bit light headed.

pThe twins' faces filled his mind as the room spun before his eyes. What would they say now if they saw him? Would they now realize the importance of regulation the width of cauldron bottoms, now that it was too late?

pOf course they would, Percy reasoned darkly. This was more like the world as he knew it. The people who always followed the rules would always be justified in the end, when it was too late.

pPercy closed his eyes, took a deep breath of poisonous fumes, felt his hand aching horribly and lay back. He smiled, justified at last.

p The End

/body

/html


End file.
